


Shut Down

by ZephyrCamida



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward teen feelings, Body Exploration, Kages being confused and overwhelmed, Kissing, M/M, Pitching tents and all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2295851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrCamida/pseuds/ZephyrCamida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shouyo is unexpectedly playful and Tobio doesn't exactly know how to deal with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Down

* * *

 

The wood frame groans lightly as Tobio throws himself down onto his mattress – more like falls along with the adrenaline flying through his veins – to sit at the edge of his bed. He wobbles on twitchy fingers, scoots back with hard-to-hide enthusiasm and chews on his bottom lip as his back hits the wall, jarring his senses. His blue eyes flutter up to the teen crawling towards him, boney knees sinking into the duvet, shoulder rolling forward as he shifts, a gleam in those shiny browns and a glimpse of pink peeking out the side of his mouth. The sight makes Tobio's heart flutter, dancing like a maniac broken free and running for the hills.

Shouyo is in his lap in a matter of moments, hands brushing slowly over Tobio's shoulders, up his taut neck and tickling the hairs on his nape. The redhead taps his forehead against his tall boyfriend's, a toothy grin adorning his face, cheeks round with cheer and hues of pink. The setter gazes silently, slides his hands over Shouyo's hips shakily, bashfully, and pulls him closer still, until they are flush against one another. He's nervous, breath puffing out with little shivers – Tobio is much too antsy, much too ready to both hide under the covers and capture his boyfriend's lips at the same time. Tobio's grip tightens, his heart beats faster.

When Shouyo settles in his lap, butt resting softly on firm thighs, Tobio pops out his jaw, captures that boyish grin in a kiss. Their teeth click, clumsy in the setter's haste, but ever the adapter, the tall teen fixes his angle and leans deeper. He can hear the giggles in the decoy's throat and can't help a twitch of his own.

Young teens, boyfriends for months yet still too shy to call each other by their first name, the two of them kiss – small peck by small peck – and bask in each others' trembling bodies. Still not used to the sizzling in his veins, the tingles in his fingertips, Tobio sucks in a sharp breath between the little ministrations Shouyo presses to his mouth, lets his head rest back against the wall. The redhead continues to nuzzle into him, continues to douse him in nips of gentle fire, slowly building up in temperature to the point that the room feels like Tobio's just finishing setting drills. Deliciously – and dreadfully – suffocating, stifling hot.

Shouyo's continuous kisses are soft, warm like an aura of pyre-light, Tobio realizes as his small boyfriend peppers him in affection from where he's perched. Shouyo is still grinning all the while, nibbling at his lips and pawing his face with little fingers. It's odd, Tobio knows something as simple as kissing shouldn't affect him all too deeply – they're boyfriends after all. They kiss a lot; naturally – like, _a lot_ a lot.

But there is something Tobio can't quite place about the way Shouyo shifts from sunshine to smoldering in a gradual crawl of several seconds – maybe it's minutes, he tends to get lost in the time they're together. A sense of utter discord that drifts into his body and lingers at the surface of his mind _,_ billowing just out of reach like fingers trying to grasp at smoke. The sensual way Shouyo slowly starts to fork his fingers through Tobio's dark hair, breathes the tiniest of noises, leaving sharp prickles on his skin. Brown eyes, bright, eying him with a sudden clarity, as if truly looking at Tobio for the first time. Even the kisses begin to morph from the playful pecks Shouyo's known for to a more demure press of lips and brief flicks of tongue.

It's not the fact that they're kissing that confuses him, it's that Shouyo is kissing _him_ and not the other way around. Kissing him not like an awkward teen, but like an adult. Kissing him more insistently, harder. Tobio abruptly feels skittish as he comes to realize that the blistering pecks aren't on his mouth anymore, and when the redhead puckers his lips over a tender spot under the curve of the setter's jaw, a tingly sensation twists in his stomach, _hard._

When teeth and wet tongue replace soft lips, the feeling explodes like a bomb, jarring and mind-blowing.

Tobio's eyes fly wide open and he's suddenly, for some reason, unsure where to put his hands – they float awkwardly in space behind Shouyo's back. The suction over his sensitive skin leaves him momentarily shell-shocked. He can't breathe. The tall teen doesn't know why, but he's filling up with a burning he can't describe. He doesn't know how to feel about his boyfriend being so forward, nor why he naturally tilts his head back when the moist kisses travel down his throat. Tobio sucks in a shaky breath, brows scrunching as his boyfriend pulls on the collar of his shirt and licks at the available skin.

He really, _really_ doesn't know what to do with a frisky boyfriend – such a new occurrence leaves him both frozen on the spot and melting from Shouyo's touches at the same time.

Before he has time to think further on the matter, Tobio snaps back with a hard thud against the wall as Shouyo shimmies downward, nudging his body between the brunet's thighs. Small hands are skirting under his shirt, prying under the cotton fabric. He hums nervously as cool air washes over his ribcage and those sunny lips brush over his sternum moments later. The dark-haired teen finds himself shuddering from the hands wandering his midsection, touches curious and fleeting.

He really, _really_ doesn't know what to do. His body is responding faster than his mind can process and that's _never_ happened before. _This_ has never happened before. Tobio wishes everything would _slow the hell down_ so he can feel his toes again.

He also wishes his blood would stop boiling, flowing rampant like a dangerous current and pooling south into his groin. So, so south. Oh, _fuck._

“Kageyama,” the light, breathy tone of Shouyo's voice shoots through Tobio's body like lightning. Damn it, since when has this idiot sounded like that? He stills as that moist, hot air washes over his open skin, his eyes drifting down just as the redhead is pressing more open-mouthed kisses down his body. Blue eyes dart straight to the ceiling within seconds, and Tobio mentally screams at the hammering in his chest and the blood surging. Oh god, is it flowing south fast.

_Fuckkk._

“Hey, _Kageyama_...”

_No, no, no._

He ignores the voice from below, wires out the frequency of the redhead's words from his frantic brain with deadly force. Tobio can't stand to listen to his own name rolling off his boyfriend's tongue, the magnetic pull of Shouyo's voice, the warmth from the breath that escapes with it, it's all too much – digging under his skin and lighting him on fire.

When small hands thrum playfully over his hip bones, Tobio flinches hard, bites his lip to keep anything from coming out. A guttural grunt bubbles out anyway, and in yet another bout of embarrassment (this has to be the sixth or seventh one, he's lost count by now), the setter raises his hands and digs his palms into his eyes, feels the heat in his cheeks under his wrists. By this point, he's reacting to the tiniest stimuli, and it's becoming a battle of the fittest just to keep his voice from leaping through his clenched teeth.

Can this get any worse? Or does it get better? He's not sure which is the more accurate way to describe the emotions running wild through his mind, his body, his _everything_.

“Ahh –“

Apparently, feisty, pint-sized boyfriends can make it worse (better, frightening, exciting) in a heartbeat, if that tiny yelp is anything to go by. The fact that he can't see a thing from his stubborn decision to cease visual function only makes the wet kisses on his stomach (oh _shit_ , they're that far down) more electrifying. Tobio twitches, chest cresting as darkness behind his lids start to spark with little specks of light as the pleasure pools in his belly.

He digs his palms harder, fingers threading into his dark hair, messing up the locks of black with trembling digits. Head tilting back to hide the deep red blooming on his cheeks, Tobio squirms, nose flaring with each touch that he can't see, but feels with glaring clarity.

“How does it feel?” he hears Shouyo ask, calloused hands rubbing and wandering over tanned skin, palming the bumps of his ribs and sliding down the subtle, yet firm curves of his waist. Tobio doesn't know how Shouyo is so attentive to the tiniest details – the way Tobio's breath hitches when his fingers ghost over his abdomen or when his lips part as his thighs are thumbed with delicate precision by digits sneaking into his shorts – but it leaves Tobio reeling with overwhelming sensitivity.

Shouyo has essentially figured out all his touchy-feely spots without him knowing, and this almost irritates Tobio to the point that he wants to stubbornly refuse to answer his small boyfriend. That, and he can't open his mouth without some embarrassing noises escaping with the snark. Definitely that too.

When the redhead nibbles and sucks a spot just over his bellybutton, he digs those damn palms so hard into his skull, Tobio thinks he might be able to push his eyes out the back of his head. His legs are shaking around the squirming form of his boyfriend, toes curling tight into the bed.

It feels so _good,_ it does,but Shouyo isn't supposed to be skilled at this. He's not supposed to be able to render him breathless with a few innocent (maybe not, with the way Shouyo is traveling south, oh my _god_ ) touches. Shouyo is clumsy half the time – _all_ the time if volleyball is not involved. Who is this fiery person and what has he done with his naïve, flighty boyfriend? How can he go from zero to sixty when it comes to Tobio, when it comes to _touching_ him? The fact that Shouyo is focusing on him with a similar intensity as when he's scoring the court leaves the brunet spinning out of control.

Tobio's mind rages on in its tizzy, unable make sense of the current contradiction that is Shouyo. He really, really wishes he could remove himself from the situation right now. Fall back, retreat – Mayday, _**Mayday**_ _._ It's too dangerous – _Shouyo_ is too dangerous. He's falling way too deep, way too easily – it's scary how easily he's letting it happen, as if his body has shut down – malleable and hot.

“ _Hinata!_ ” Tobio gasps suddenly when he feels a wet tongue dip lazily into his navel, then sweep down, down, so damn far down that Shouyo's grazing the seam of his jersey shorts. The chill from the wet trail he leaves behind makes Tobio flush with goosebumps, shoots pulses of heat down his body. His hands shake where they rest over his eyes, twitching with every movement from his boyfriend. Ears ringing, Tobio thinks he can almost _hear_ the touches gracing his skin, if it's even possible.

“Feel good?” comes the uncharacteristically timid question for how far south the redhead's mouth is sitting. Those lips are brushing over the beginnings of Tobio's happy trail and for some reason, this makes his whole body tingle even more. No, he knows the reason. His lower region knows the reason too, denial be damned. There's no way to restrain his voice now, tiny pants busting forth as if the wind is being forcefully blown from his lungs.

“I-idiot Hinata,” Tobio stutters, hips twisting automatically when fingertips dip under the band of his shorts. Oh god, what is he doing now? The flustered teen convulses under feathery kisses, the lips of his boyfriend pecking and nibbling at the sensitive skin and subtle line of wispy hairs dipping down his groin.

“Kageyama,” Shouyo murmurs, voice laced with a touch of reprimand. “I can guess what you're thinking right now, but...”

“Nngh.” _Damn it, stop talking!_

“I won't know what you're thinking if you don't _tell me_.”

“As if!” he growls in return, gritting his teeth. Tobio hears the little hum of disapproval from below, and then silence. Oh no. He feels something deadly slowly creeping up on him in the next few, unbearable moments. Shouyo is quiet, motionless, and Tobio can almost guarantee that his boyfriend is staring at him, plotting. He can feel it on his skin, though he's felt nearly _everything_ on his skin, so who fucking knows now.

Another huff (it almost sounds like a tiny chortle, really) cracks the suffocating silence in the room, and then Shouyo's hands are playing at his shorts again, tugging them. The band catches around Tobio's obvious erection, and in a fit of panic, the setter finally, _finally_ , releases his death grip on his face to seize the redhead's wrists before he can wrench the shorts down. He might have been concerned for the sting from the sudden, _hard_ contact in any other instance, bit he's far too worked up now to worry about it. Tobio's breathing unbelievably hard, throat tight, chest heaving. The setter's eyes hurt from the sudden onslaught of light, but he locks eyes with Shouyo's, watches the flecks of light dance in those caramel irises and tries _not_ to watch that little pink tongue brush along a plush bottom lip.

Shouyo grins, teeth baring in delight, “Ya finally gonna play along with me, Kageyama?”

Tobio swallows hard, face hot. He looks down at his messy state – shirt in a wrinkly bunch upon his chest, little pinkish purple spots decorating his stomach area, jersey shorts sitting just barely upon his hips. He notes the hands dangerously close to his crotch, especially to the bulging erection currently tenting his clothes. The setter drops his head in an attempt to hide his eyes under a curtain of black, cheeks burning even warmer, grumbles seeping out in embarrassment.

He hears Shouyo giggle lightly as he crawls back up Tobio's body, and within seconds brown eyes are peeking at him from under his fringe. The redhead eyes him curiously, lips pursed – his trademark look of innocence. It only makes the taller boy more irritated and, to Tobio's utter horror, more aroused.

“Stupid...” Tobio mutters, fingers loose on Shouyo's hands. His boyfriend only smiles happily, and presses a tiny peck on his frowning mouth. The red never leaves Tobio's face.

_Stupid Hinata._

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> The first non-smut I've written. How fitting for it to be this pairing too. I hope you all enjoyed, it'll be back to smut for me after this. Thanks for reading! <3


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